


An Un-unquiet Mind

by Sica520



Category: RWBY
Genre: A Nap, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Hurt/Comfort, References to Depression, Strange formatting on purpose, Suicidal Thoughts, The tiny farm child needs a hug, and probably a therapist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-11 07:11:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17442305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sica520/pseuds/Sica520
Summary: Everyone wanted to know what Ozpin was hiding, and now they do. Now, the old wizard has locked himself deep within the mind of Oscar Pine. Now, Oscar has to deal with everyone's misplaced anger and blame, as well as his own complicated feelings about being Ozma’s next incarnate. (Aka volume 6 ep 4-9 from Oscar's POV *someone please help this tiny child)





	An Un-unquiet Mind

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first fanfic I have ever posted, but I couldn't take it anymore I have too many feelings about the tiny farm child. The show likes to pretend that he doesn't exist, but seriously this kid has got to be a nervous wreck. I am also not happy with the recent chapters lack of portrayal of what is going on with Oscar. Side note why is his character development always off freaking screen?! Anyway, I wanted to analyze how it might feel to have a connection like that suddenly, and probably violently, cut off. Of course the show hasn't reliably given us an answer as to how that connection works, so these are my headcanons/theories.
> 
> btw: The formatting is weird on purpose.
> 
> Italics are Oscar's thoughts.
> 
> "Italics in quotation marks are the things that other characters have said that that oscar is thinking about"
> 
> Italics in bold is for emphasis, it's really hard and confusing to emphasize things that are already in italics.
> 
> Italics underlined is Ozpin, yes he will probably be appearing.
> 
> Sorry it ended up being so confusing, and yes there are parts where it is intentionally hard to tell what exactly is going on; I would imagine that Oscar himself probably doesn't really know what is happening. So anyway this is what I think it might be like in the mind of Oscar Pine during chapters 3-8, spoilers for vol 6 up to ch 9; its going to be a crazy, messed up and confusing ride, but really were you expecting anything else with this poor boy lol.
> 
> Disclaimer I don't own RWBY if I did then all of Oscar's character development would not happen off freaking screen!!!!)

* * *

 

**_Silence_**.

It was **_silent_**.

That was the worst part. Oscar could barely hear the others yelling, freaking out, deciding where to go. _Where do we go from here?_  he couldn't help but think. He couldn't really hear the wind beginning to howl. Oscar could barely hear anything but the unnatural bone-chilling **_silence_**.

It was worse than the throbbing pain of his cheek; Qrow really did a number on him. After all there was no contest between a fullyfledged huntsman vs. a 14 year old boy who could barely activate his aura. Ozpin was no help. He was too broken to do it for Oscar. Or... maybe Ozpin didn't activate their aura because most of Qrow's anger was justified and he **_deserved_** what they got.

That thought refused to leave, it was maddening feeling so **_guilty_** and yet Oscar knew that he didn't do anything. Knew that it wasn't his fault, it wasn't his emotions he was feeling, and yet it was **_his_** face that was starting to bruise.

It was worse than the glares from the rest of the team. An unwanted and unwittnessed memory sprung up, Yang XiaoLong had once punched an atlesian knight and it had shattered, what could she do to him?

It was worse than the biting cold. On the farm they had only ever gotten a light dusting of snow, nothing like this.

Yes, all of those things hurt, but it wasn't what was driving Oscar mad right now.

No, the worst part was how **_quiet_** everything was. He never thought silence could be so deafening. He couldn't remember the last time when it was this silent. Ozpin had always been telling him what to do, where to go, how to keep going. Now... ** _nothing_**.

The old wizard had locked himself away again, but instead of a cottage he had chosen Oscar's head as his refuge.

His head pounded with pressure. He kept walking, falling slowly behind the others. Following a trail, that had to lead somewhere. Or was this a literal dead end to complement the metaphorical one they had run into?

Shame weighed down on him, he walked with his head hung low and his shoulders slumped into himself. It felt uncomfortable. Oscar came to the realization that before he had been walking with his head held high, the strict posture of a distinguished professor, a confident stroll with his back straight and his hands held behind him. That it had felt **_right_**. He was teenager who had been raised in a literal barn, his aunt had to remind him to tuck in his shirt all the way for dust sake, he had no business behaving so formally. What was freaking him out more was that he hadn't really noticed it. He only noticed the absence of it. Like he was now noticing the absence of everything. He was an anxious child, he always had been, especially around people. The confidence wasn't his, he knew that. It was Oz's.

**_Was_**. Past tense.

All the confidence had drained out of him, and Oz's calm collected manner was another lie. And now here Oscar was, not missing it per say, but feeling the lack of that confidence rushing through him, where he once felt such purpose.

And still the surreal **_silence_** prevailed. He found himself wondering around in a sort of dream state. Nothing felt real. Nothing was real, nothing but **_pain_** and **_silence_**.

He should be happy, he finally had his thoughts to himself again. His own uneasy silence. After so long of dealing with a foriegn invader, he finally got what he thought he had wanted.

>   _"Get out of my head! Leave me alone!"_

How many times had he yelled that? How many more had he thought it, even when he knew it would do nothing? How many times had he wished that Ozpin would just vanish? Gone just as suddenly as he had appeared.

Now...

Oscar could not feel Ozpin's presence, could not hear his imput, could not think over the damning silence. He knew that the old wizard wasn't gone for good, who knows how many times had Oz told him that there was no way to reverse what had happened to them, and yet terror coursed through Oscar's veins. His own thoughts echoed in the stillness, his head hurt so much.

_Have I really gotten that used to you in such a short time?_ he wondered. There was no answer.

No nothing.

_What do we do now?_  No answer.

_What is going to happen to us?_ He asked his questions in vain.

The man with all the answers was **_silent_**.

The man with all the answers was just another **_lie_** Ozpin had told. He didn't know what to do anymore than they did, and yet he always had seemed so sure of himself, so sure of what to do. Oscar had found it infuriating, Ozpin in his no nonsense and straightforward manner had told him to leave everything he had ever known behind. The voice echoing in his head, coming from all around him making it impossible to ignore. A commanding pressence that drowned out Oscar's own.

>   _"We have to leave. We have to go to Haven."_

_And do what? You never had a plan, did you?_

Those questions had an answer, given by his own tretcherous cursed **_lying_** mouth.

>   _"I dont have one."_

_How could you do that to me?_ Oscar's anger was justified to. Tears stung his eyes, and left frozen trails on his throbbing cheek. Ozpin had infected his **_life_** , his **_thoughts_** , his **_choices_**.

He also couldn't process the simple fact that, even though he never wanted to admit it, in some twisted way Oz's influence had been... **_comforting_**.

He remembered Qrow, broken, angry, yelling.

>   _"I thought I was doing something good!"_

 

_So did I_ , Oscar realized. Chosen by fate to save the world, how many of the stories that he had read had followed that same path? There was something empowering about believing that there was something he could do. Of course it was never actually ** _him,_** not really. Still, he had trained and gotten better. He was on his way to be a hero, despite never ever wanting to be. In a frightening world where his freewill could literally be over-ridden any second, full of magic he didn't understand, and terrors he never imagined; it was still nice to feel a sense of purpose. A reason to keep going. Now even that was a lie.

It had felt good, he felt like he was important. But it was never **_him_.** He was expendable, just a puppet for the man who had orchestrated this whole thing. 

He felt like he was going to be sick. He felt like he was going to pass out. What would happen then? Would the others just leave him to freeze to death?

_What about after death_? Death wasn't as permanent as he had been lead to believe. If he died here then the cycle would just continue, right? He didn't know. He didn't want to know. Didn't want to think about that.

He wanted to scream, to cry, to somehow release this building pressure. He never asked for any of this. He was never going to be able to unsee what he had seen. More tormoil in his bursting head. No one to tell him what to do. What could the puppet do without the mastermind?

Now it was up to him to motivate himself.

_Stay focused. Keep moving forward. One foot forward_.

>   ~~All of humanity wiped out in a blink of an eye.~~

_Another step. You can do this_ , he told himself. Why did it feel so weird having no one answer his private thoughts?  _Don't think about..._

>   ~~Salem's attempts to kill herself.~~
> 
>  

  _Don't. Just think about moving forward._

_You can't fall too far behind the others_.

> ~~Four children's courpses obliterated.~~

Each and every death Ozpin had undergone, and the fact that one day it would feel as if he had personally experienced it himself. It was bad enough being an outside observer, but no this was his life, fate, his **_destiny_**.

 

Oscar couldn't do this, any of this. Especially not alone.

 

>  " _You will reincarnate but in a way that ensures you are never alone,"_

_So much for that,_ He bitterly yelled at no one.

 

He was so so **_alone_**.

>  " _L_ _eave me alone! I hate this!"_

 

No one wanted anything to do with him. He was only in this group because of Oz, these people don't know him. They would be better off without him.

 

_I take it back! Please come back! Please I don't want to be alone!_

He hated this feeling more.

 

So **_empty_**.

 

_**Empty**_.

 

Why did he feel so empty? He felt like an integral part of himself had been stolen. **_Gone_**. **_Missing_**. **_Incomplete_**.

 

> _"You're your own person,"_

No, he wasn't.

> _"Don't lie to him Ruby,"_

 

No, he wasn't. Was he? No one saw him as his own person, they all saw him as a vessel for Ozpin. Is that all he was? what about now? Now that the wizard had vanished, what did that make him? An empty vessel?

**_So alone. In so much pain_**.

 

Ozpin had been in pain too.

The great and powerful mask had cracked and the tired and hopless man had been exposed. A tramatized old man hiding behind a terrified child. _It hurts so much_. 

Whose pain was this?

His?

Oz's?

Both?

Did it really matter? After all, Oscar still felt it.

 

He had thought that what he had felt right before Jinn appeared was the most painful experience in his life. Oscar and Ozpin both had been grappling for control, fighting over his body, and it was his body. He needed to remind himself that, he needed to remind the others that, this was still his body.

**_For now, at least_**.

The pain was **_unbearable_** as if someone was trying to force his limbs to bend the opposite way, except instead of just his arm it was his whole body, his mind, his very **_soul_**. His head was being torn in two. An overwhelming sense of **_wrongness_**. It was wrong for him to fight Oz. Oz was wrong for hiding what he was keeping from the others. It was wrong. **_Wrong. Wrong_**. As the two waged **_war._**

**_Shoving_**. **_Pushing_**.

 

**_Ripping. Tearing._ **

 

**_Pain blinding him._ **

 

**_Their tears blinding them._ **

 

**_Control being forced._ **

 

**_Free will being taken._ **

 

**_Wrong._ **

**_Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!_ **

 

Little did he know that there was a **_worse_** feeling. This feeling was so much worse. Now, he had been torn in two, the souls that were in the process of merging had suddenly been ripped apart. **_Painfully_**. Now he was just the fragment that had been left over. Oscar was left with this, feeling...

 

**_Incomplete._ **

 

**_Broken._ **

 

**_Alone._ **

 

A metaphysical door slammed shut in his own head. Nothing he could do. Parts of his own mind that were now just ... ** _unacessable_**.

Was it really his mind?

He didnt know.

He didnt understand why he felt like this, Oscar had been his own person before Ozpin. Hadn't he? How did someone as insignificant as a boy on a small farm even begin to measure up to a man who had been there since before this world? **_This world, this version of humanity,_** the very fact that there had been a previous one was still a hard concept to grasp.

Where did he fit in all of that?

...what was he?

**_Nothing_**. Nothing without Oz's knowledge, skills, or guidence. **_Nothing_**.

Just a lost child.

But just because Oscar didn't understand it, didn't mean it wasn't happening. Wasn't that just the summery of life? He didn't understand why he was forced to be another life in the long list of the legendary Oz the great and powerful, but that didn't mean anything. He didn't understand how everything had spiraled so far out of control so long ago. He didn't understand why Ozma, the first Ozma, had ever agreed to this hopeless task.

> _"Who would ask for this?"_
> 
>  

Another foriegn memory, siting before a young girl with bright silver eyes and an energetic spirit.

> _"I want to help people,"_
> 
>  

The same young girl, now from his own memories _,_

> _"We have done things that most people would say is impossible,"_
> 
>  

Ruby Rose, she was walking a little while ahead of him. Determination in her tred, a stubborn nature refusing to back down. _How does she do it? Isn't she tired too?_ He wondered. Oscar certainly was. He needed to focus on something other than his awful thoughts.

**_Lonely_** thoughts.

 

_Focus on anything else_.

The white snow was beginning to fall harder, the white hill was hardly desturbed by their party. A blank canvase, speading out for miles and miles. _Does it ever stop?_

But this. This really is impossible. Salem cannot be killed. _Anything we do would just be delaying the **inevitable**._

 

All of humanity wiped out in a blink of an eye.

_No. No. No, think of something else. Don't think about what will happen if we fail_. His thoughts refused to obey him

 Another young woman with a kind silver stare, heading off to do the impossible. Cloak as white as the snow all around him.

More _**pain. Guilt**_ and **_grief_** for people he had never even met.

 

_**When**_ _we fail_.

> _"I'll do it, I will become your Fall Madien_ ,"The invincible girl fell with Beacon.

_Was everthing in vain?_ .

_Why would you continue to do this? sacrifice people, steal lives, ruin lives if it didn't matter anyway? If we will fail either way?_

 

No answer.

 

> _"When you talked about having faith in humanity was that just for everyone else too?"_
> 
> _"That wasnt my intention,"_

_But it was partly true, wasnt it?_ He asked his silent companion.

_You Hypocrite!_

_You pushed others to journey on. You pushed me, to keep moving forward, when you didn't even believe your own words. You convinced us that we could do something, gave us the hope to fight a war that we can't win, encouraged us not to give up. Trained huntresses and huntsmen, children, to fight something we could never beat. You lied, to every single occupaint of your school, never even telling them what we were up against, why you really formed the Huntsman Academies. When all along you had no hope yourself! You continued to pretend that you had a plan, that we had a chance, when all we can really do is blindly stumble forward._

That was it, the big secret, the thing Ozpin was hiding from everyone else, that we really don't stand a chance. The secret that Oscar had pried out of him, and forced Oz to reveal.

The biggest lie Oz ever told was hope.

But, was that really so _**wrong**_? Oscar didn't know. Yes, Oz had lied to well everyone he had ever known, apparently. Yes, he was an old charlatin selling a better world that no one could ever hope to reach. Yes, Oz himself was just as hopelessly lost as the rest of them. He was also just as fallable, and even more damaged. How could no one see how much pain they were in?

_How could no one care?_

Would it really have been better if he had been upfront? If Oz had told them all that their foe was unstopable and unkillable and they have absolutely no hope in winning.

_The world cannot be saved. The only thing we can do is dely the inevitable._

There would be a panic. These secrets never stay secret; Oz had been desperate, pleading with Oscar, but still he had wrenched control back and proceeded to expose the old man behind the curtain. There was a panic. _Nothing would have really changed. Or would it?_

Would there still be people like Pyrrha, Summer, Ruby, and even Ozma himself once who still did the right thing despite it being impossible? People who knew that they won't make it.

How many more would react like Raven, like Yang, and now even Qrow?

What about the people who would turn to the enemies side? Lionheart.

Then the majority would be the others who did nothing or ran away and hid. Who resigned the world as lost and just gave up. Like him.

 

Could anyone really blame them for lying?

 

Or was Oscar just trying to excuse the man he had no choice in becoming? He didn't know which thoughts were truly his.

 

Were any of them?

 

He hated this. He was thinking himself into circles and there was no one to prevent his downward spiral. At this rate he was going to give himself a panic attack.

 

**No hope**.

 

Was it his imagination or was it getting _**harder to breathe?**_

_Just keep walking._

 

_**Harder to think**_...

 

_**No answers**_.

**_No peace_**.

 

Memories bombarded him, the white snow fading in and out. Vision blurring.

 

**_No rest_**.

_Keep moving_.

 

_**D i s c o n n e c t e d** _

 

**_f r a g m e n t s_ **

**_o f   t h o u g h t s_ **

that made

 

_**No sense**_.

 

**_No meaning_**.

 

**_No nothing_**.

 

A blade plunged into a young woman desperate to just die. **_just die_**. please. **_please_**. alive for far far too long. just finally **_make it all stop._**

A bottle in his hand, empty.

The all too familiar feeling of going **_insane_**. Everything is **_too much_** and simultaneously **_not enough_**.

 

**_Too much_**.

 

**_Not enough._ **

 

**_Too many thoughts._ **

 

_**Not numb enough.** _

 

**_Too much pressure_**.

**_Not enough space to think, and yet his head had never felt so_ **

**_E m p t y._ **

 

**_Too much time_** ,

 

spent **_wasted_** ,

**_thrown away_** ,

 

**_stolen lives_ **

far too short.

 

He could still feel, still think, still remember. Another bottle.

 

**_Anything to make it stop._ **

**_Anything._ **

**_Please._ **

 

**_Please._ **

**_No comfort._ **

 

> " _Where you seek comfort there will only be pain,"_

was the god of light only talking in regards to Salem. In light of his throbbing cheek, he didn't think so.

 

> _"I was cursed,"_

_Yet you failed to mention that you had agreed to this!_ Or at least the first Ozma, had. So long ago before even hearing what it was that he had agreed to.

 

> _"Who would ask for this?_

 

> _"I'll do it,"_

_Quick to the punch, rushing in without knowing how hopeless the task truly was. Just like the rest of us._

 

> _"Are you ready?"_

he had asked another reckless child not knowing what she agreed to.

 

> _"I need to hear you say it,"_

 One last chance to back out.

 

A chance Ozma never got.

 

A chance Oscar never got.

 

And if he was right a chance the man known as Ozpin never got. Before all of this. Where was the difference between Ozpin and Ozma? Ozpin was once just like him, wasn't he, fighting his own mind and soul. Had Ozpin perhaps had another name once? Had he had another life he had to leave behind, just like he did? Someone he cared about? Was he just as scared as he slowly lost himself to the never ending cycle? Now just an amalgamation of lifetimes of pain, heartbreak, betrayal, death, and failure; stumbling along in the body of a man. His body. Where was the difference between Ozpin and Oscar?

It was getting harder to really tell.

It terrified him that he didn't reliably know.

* * *

 

He hardly realized where he was going, just blindly following the others, but now it looked like they were coming to an old abondoned farm.

His heart clenched painfully. He had left his aunt all alone to take care of the seasons harvest. She must be so worried. Manning the farm with no one to help her. She must be so tired. He'd left her with nothing but a note. She must be so mad. Not even a goodbye. and now he couldn't even find solace that what he did was worth it. He left the only family he had left, chasing a childish dream to save the world, _how foolish could I get?_

This farm was depressing. The gate rusted over, the estate empty, the crops dead. Nothing left. **_No point in anything_**.

It was creepy. Any moment now something terrible was going to come out of the wood work and attack them. Something would always come.They were just living from one attack to the next.

 

**_No end in sight._ **

 

**_No point in anything_**.

 

**_So tired._ **

 

**_No rest_**.

He hadn't rested in so long. Ozma had been denied rest so many times, so why would it be any different for Oscar?

**_So tired._ **

He had never been so far away from home before, never walked so far before, and he had never been through anything like today before.

He glanced around at the others, they looked just as **_tired_**. They seemed to be avoiding his eyes. At least they were inside. Away from the bitting cold. Maybe they could rest now.

He helped Blake close the door, sealing them in like a coffin.

He wondered around the strange eerie house. "looks like a library?" he said to no one, in a quiet voice.

A scream percied the dead silence, Weis had found bodies in the beds. Dead. Decaying. Bodies. Suddenly the prospect of sleeping didn't sound so appealing. but, well he was still so **_so tired_**. He envied Oz, who had the ability to just leave, ignore what was happening and just fade away into the back of his mind.

Someone was speaking, it was hard to bring himself to pay attention. Let alone join into the conversation. The others started discussing what supplies that they could take from this house.

"If this place wasn't abandoned then it may have some supplies we can use," Ruby suggested.

"heh yeah, maybe even a car" he managed to voice. He was **_so tired_** of walking. His feet ached. His head ached. **_Everything ached._**

To their credit they didn't ignore the sugestion, just the person who had made it. They all trickled out of the room in pairs, leaving him alone. Right after Qrow had told them not to go anywhere alone.

Well, he was almost alone.

"I tell you what you keep that fire fed, and I'll find us a story to read before bed," Maria, the only other person as out of place in the group as himself, was still here. The old woman was dusting off an old book from a shelf. Oscar used to love reading, but he really didnt feel like listening to another story right now; especially since Ozpin's memories told him that bedtime stories usually turned out to be true.

But tending the fire gave him something to do. However, other than the crackling of the fire and the occasional turning of a page in Maria's book, it was **_quiet_** again.

**_So quiet_**. The rest of the team off doing something. The dead upstairs.

**_So quiet_**. A quiet that infected everything like a disease. A quiet that made him realize how alone he felt. A quiet that promised **_rest_** ,

  ** _a_** ** _ren't you tired?_ **it seemed to whisper.

 

**_Don't you just want to forget it all?_ **

 

**_Whats the point?_ **

**_Why try?_ **

 

**_Why not just rest for a bit?_ **

**_Everything will be better after a short rest._ **

 

Ruby and Weis managed to find some cans of something. It sat like a rock in Oscar's stomache, although admittedly that might not be due to the food itself; he didn't have much of an appetite.

Blake and Yang had found some sort of wagon that they could hook up to Yang's motorcycle, and yet both had returned in even worse spirits.

Qrow had found alchohol.

Maria was reading and Oscar had kept the fire going. Everyone had accomplished what they set out to do, it should have felt good to do something.

But it didn't.

 

Finally Ruby said what he had been wanting to here for so long, "we should get some rest, Qrow will wake us at sunrise,"

**_Yes, finally, rest_**. A moment to **_lay down_ **and just **_let go._** He was carrying so much upon his shoulders, the unbearable life that would one day be his. He just wanted to go to bed. **_Rest_**. **_Rest_** and **_never get up again._**

 

**_So tired._ **

**_So done._ **

**_So ready to not think and_ **

 

**_just rest._ **

It felt like only a few seconds later, when Ruby was rousing everyone. She was uneasy talking about how they had overslept, how they lost time, and how they needed to get a move on now!

_Overslept_? Oscar barely felt like he slept at all. **_Still so tired._** Isn't rest supposed to take away the tired feeling? If anything he felt **_worse_** than he had last night.

"Can we just go back to bed?" he asked sounding like the little kid he was.

"If we're all so tired maybe we should make breakfast?" Suggested Blake.

"You wanna make it?" He asked. Oscar certainly didn't. He had no energy to make breakfast, groggly his brain told him that eating something might give him more energy, but that thought was dissmissed.

"Not really," was her answer. Too much work. **_Too tired_**. He'd rather not have to make breakfast. He'd rather go back to sleep. Couldn't they have a few more minutes of rest? Of **_sweet sleep_**. Then they would feel refreshed and ready to go, later after they rested. Sure they would lose time, but they could make it up later. Not now.

Now though was time to Sleep.

The tire popped. Bad luck.

"I'm starting to think that the universe doesn't want us getting to Atlas," Yang said listing everything that had gone wrong, it was a lot. "I'm so tired,"

"Me too, It feels like we're always having to fight to get by," Blake's words hit deep, especially since they were true.

"Yeah, but that's what we signed up for," Ruby Rose poster child of Beacon Academy who had always wanted to become a huntress because of a childish desire to make the world a better place. _How was it possible that she still wanted this life even after she knew the truth?_

"We signed up to try and save the world, not just... delay the inevitable," Oscar voiced his frustration.

Then, Weis said what they were all thinking, "last night I... I couldn't stop thinking, why are we going to Atlas?"

"Weis we have to," Ruby sounded a bit like Oz, insisting on doing what they have to do.

No choice. We have to.

_**You**_ have to.

"Why? Ozpin hid the relics behind giant doors under enourmous schools, but how long would it take Salem to find a lamp in the middle of nowhere?" For the first time in their memories, Yang Xiaolong, the Firecracker, sounded defeated. And tired.

"But the Grimm, might..." Ruby too.

"They'd find it eventually, sure. But, bury it or just throw it down that well, it would take years, it might not even happen in our lifetime," Yang countered.

It would be someone else's problem. Someone else who would have to fight Ozma's war. More innocents who would be sacrificed to delay the inevitable. _But not us_ , Yang had a point however selfish it was.

_We could just walk away from all this. Well they could, I don't get that luxury._

In our lifetime? What was Oscar's lifetime now? What will happen to him If the others just gave up?

Ruby gazed at that stupid lamp, that had caused so much trouble.

_We could be rid of it._ Jinn wouldn't be of any help. She delighted in giving bad news, not that she ever really had anything else to give.

Ruby slowly walked towards the well a dead look on her face. No one moved to stop her, in fact her team encouraged her.

Oscar felt nothing as the most optimistic person in their group prepared to throw the powerful item, that they had risked so much to aquire, away along with the task they had been given.

It hazily occurred to him that Oz would probably care. He seemed so concerned about the stupid thing before. Oscar never wanted to see the horrible thing again. Here was a clear difference between him and Ozpin. If Ruby threw it down the well, then maybe it could bring him back. Maybe Oz will stop her, Oscar had a vauge feeling that someone should stop her. Probably from Oz. Well if Ozpin wanted someone to stop her, then he better do something, because Oscar isn't moving. He was **_too tired_**.

Oz didn't stop her. No one did. And no one even reacted to the lamp falling down down down into the pitch blackness below. No one except Ruby herself.

"No! No! No! I didn't mean to!"

"Ruby it's okay," Weis tried to calm her down.

"No no! There's something down there, I saw it! It was looking at me!" Ruby was frantic.

"Hey It's okay, you just said you were tired. It was probably nothing," Yang comforted her younger sister, but still in that dead voice. "Now let's go,"

""What's wrong with you! We can't just leave! We have to go down there! We have to get the lamp back! Oh, what was I thinking!"

"The only thing we have to do is fix this trailer, hey farm boy check the shed for a spare" chimed in the adult of the group. Qrow didn't even look at Oscar or address him by name.

"I am not leaving without the lamp!"

"I'll go down with you" Blake volunteered.

"We'll go down together," Weis seconded. Team RWBY would go down together.

"Fine. Get the stupid lamp! Oscar!" He felt himself tense up when Qrow addressed him, harsher then before. What was he going to do? Yell at him? Was something else somehow his fault? Punch him again? Throw him down the well? But all he said was, "fix the stupid tire!" Then he left, without even looking at him.

Ok. He can do that. Fix the tire. A clear objective to work on. He never realized how much of a relief it was to be told what to do. To have the burden of thinking about what to do removed.

Team RWBY left to go get the lamp back. Qrow was going off to get drunk somewhere. He didn't see where Maria went, probably back to reading.

He was **_alone_** , again.

He set about fixing the blowout. Heading to the shed to try and find a spare.

_Guess you really aren't coming back huh?_ He had thought that Ozpin would reappear as soon as the team started talking about getting rid of the relic. But he didn't.

_Fix the tire_ , he kept reminding himself. He sighed. Sure he had fixed stuff like this before. His aunt's tractor was ancient, and broke often. But for some reason fixing this was so much harder. It was hard to remember what he was supposed to be doing. _Fix the tire_ , he kept reminding himself.

_Find a spare and then fix the tire, come on it's not that hard._

This simple task felt impossible. Probably because he was so tired. He began bartering with himself.

_If you fix the tire, then we can leave this creepy place._

 

_But I am so tired._

 

_If you fix the tire, then we don't have to walk anymore._

 

_Or I could just lay down in the snow, right now._

_Yeah, and freeze to death. But, if you fix the tire, then we can go back to sleep_.

 

It belatedly occurred to him what he was doing. _Huh, I am still talking to myself, actually talking to myself_.

_Hey Oz can you still, how did you put it, assure me that I am perfectly sane?_ It was only half a joke.

_Oz? Can you still hear me, even though I can't hear you?_

_If you can_ , _then I am sorry, I should never have done that. I shouldn't have made you relive that._

 

He waited. That was something else he realized that he had gotten used to, pausing after each thought, expecting a response.

_Please come back. All those times I wanted you to shut up or leave, I am sorry for those too. I never realized how lonely it is with you gone_.

 

 

Pause again.

 

 

Pause and listen to the dreadful silence as there was no response.

 

He had found a forgotten spare tucked in some corner of the shed.

_Please! You don't have to talk to the others, but please just don't leave me all alone!_

 

.....

 

_I won't even tell them, if you do come back!_ As that thought came to Oscar, he realized it was true; he would hold Oz's lies if that's what it would take to be rid of this horrible **_hollow_** feeling. This whole thing started because he had forced Oz to tell the truth, but now if Oz wanted Oscar to lie to the others he would. After all they would just take it out on him anyway; if he was going to be punished for Oz's lies regardless, he might as well contribute to them.

_If you want to hide from it all I understand, but please at least let me know that you are still there._

 

_...._

 

He headed back out into the cold of the outside. _Fix the tire_.

 

_Oz?_

_..._

 

_Ozpin?_

_..._

 

_Professor Ozpin!?_

_..._

Another stretch of silence. Then he called a name that he had only recently learned and still didn't really know who it belonged to.

_Ozma?_

 ...

"Anyone?!....Hello?!.....Please, don't leave me all alone!" He wasn't just pleading in his head now. The barren trees threw his words back in his face.

_He won't answer. He left you. There's no one who cares_. He told himself. Then he directed his thoughts back at the old man.

_Fine! Stay locked up in there forever then!_

_I don't care!_ If Oz was listening he must know that was a complete and utter lie.

He returned to pumping the tire. Stubbornly ignoring everything else.

"Oscar!" That wasn't the voice he had been longing to hear. He didn't know why Yang was shouting at him, given Oz's track record that he had inherited, it probably wasn't good.

"Oscar!" more voices joined Yang's. "We have to go now!" Still no word from the voice he desperately wanted. But there was no time to feel disappointed that Ozpin hadn't responded, the others were frantically forceing everyone on the wagon.

 

* * *

 

They left the farm behind as fast as they could, but not before Oscar had caught a glimpse of the horrible Grimm that looked like human corpses, burning along with the house. Another nightmare he won't be forgetting anytime soon.

As the farm shrank in the distance, the others felt relieved enough to explain what had happened in the well. Then Maria told them the story from the book she had found, and sure enough the monsters of her "bedtime story" were real. Those things drained the soul, stole emotions, and warped their very thoughts.

Maria passed him the book. He hated what he read. The slowly slipping sanity mirrored by the degrading handwriting, the terrifyingly accurate descriptions, and the invasive mantra ** _I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm tired_**. Over and over again, as these creatures turned one's very thoughts against them. Needless to say, Oscar had a sore spot for that. He read a bit about Bartleby's successful attempt to capture two of them outloud, until thankfully Maria took it back.

"Bartleby's plan worked," she informed them.

"No one was angry," Qrow and Yang had wanted to tear him apart, but then they suddenly switched to just silently ignoring him. Anger took energy that they didn't have.

" Or sad or scared," Oscar had never once stopped feeling scared since he stepped out of the door to his farm, but at that house he didn't even react to sleeping with dead bodies just upstairs.

"No one was anything," that was eerily similar to how Oscar had felt after Oz left. Was that the Grimm?

Why did his every single thought have to be intensely scrutinized, in order for him to believe that it was him who thought it?

What thoughts are his?

"And then no one was left," She tossed the book into the wilderness, maybe someone else will find it and learn from Bartelby the scrivter who tried to take the easy way out, and paid a terrible price. Another story with an unhappy ending.

"I'm sorry for what I said about giving up," Weis told them.

"Me too," Yang joined in, "we can't quit until the lamp is safe," Oscar noticed they said nothing about after Atlas. Ozpin didn't have a plan for after Atlas, after all.

"It's not your fault, it was those things," Blake said.

"I should have known, the signs were all there but I had never seen a settlement withered away like that, I guess my mind isn't what it used to be," as Maria was berrating herself, Oscar couldn't help but think of someone else who should have known, who should have done something to help.

_Stop it,_ he told himself _. He's not coming back, we drove him away. You were awful to him, and now when things go wrong you selfishly want him back?_

_How pathetically ungrateful._

 

"Isn't obvious girl? I had silver eyes," she used the word **_had_** , Oscar noticed. He glanced at Ruby, one of the few silver eyed warriors left, perhaps the last. They all were hunted, destroyed, and almost completely wiped out. Only Ruby left. A child. A daughter who had already lost her mother through the same reasons, **_guilt_ **and **_pain_** slammed into him, the dulled emotions coming back in full force as the apathy were left behind.

On the one hand it felt like a breath of fresh air to actually be able to feel again, he just wished that the feelings were more pleasant. He would never prefer the numbness, but it was nice to have not been in pain.

Maria told them of her past. She had been the legendary Grimm Reaper who fought like a one woman army until bounty hunters came and gouged out her powerful eyes. Silver eyes were a hefty prize. Now Ruby had a teacher who could help her, and that idea caused multiple confusing emotions to come to Oscar. The emotions swirled and mixed with one another, so much stronger in comparison to the blank emotional equivalent of watching paint dry, so that it was hard to pin point what individually he was feeling. Never the less he tried, it was something he learned to be constantly doing; sorting out what he felt and thought. Filing each part into categories: _mine_ and _not mine_ and now he unfortunately had to add more categories: _ours_ and _I don't know_.

There was **_guilt_** , again; he didn't think he would ever stop feeling so guilty. _The guilt that was not mine_ , telling himself that didn't make him feel it any less.

**_Fear_** , another constant companion. Before he would have instantly put that in his pile; the great and powerful Ozpin doesn't get scared. But now, after fully knowing that oh yes he does, it went in _ours_.

**_Worry_** ; if Ruby learned how to be a true silver eyed warrior she would be targeted too. Both of them worried for Ruby, Oscar saw her as a ...kind of friend? ...could he really call her that? At the very least she was someone who cared about him and was kind to him, and to Oz she was his student.

Then there was a strange mixture of dissatisfaction, disappointment and shame, as Ruby Rose a student of Beacon Academy, _Oz's student not mine_ , had to be trained by someone else.

Finally the figurative dawn could be seen. Ruby's scroll received a call from Jaune, signifying that they did indeed reach Argus at last.

* * *

The meet up with the rest of their group was a happy event, even if Nora crashing into him did not help how sore he was from the previous few days. They were welcomed guests at Jaune's Sister and her family's house. The warmth of family served to melt the chill from their bones and allow everyone to breathe normally again.

The danger was temporarily gone, and they could enjoy a moments rest, ~~no not rest that wasn't the right word~~ , peace.

Then of course the peace didn't last. The border was closed. Ironwood refused to see them, not that it was likely that he had been told. The base at Argus refused to let them see Ironwood. Oz remained silent, not that he could do much anyway. Qrow blew them off again and Oscar found himself edging away.

"What's his problem? It's not your fault we can't get in," Jaune asked Ruby.

"Well if he's going to be a jerk then we will just come up with a way without him. I mean we have Ozpin with us, he usually knows what to do!" Nora said gesturing to Oscar.

_Uh, oh_. She had said the magic word. Suddenly the depressed tone rushed back to everyone. The news they had received from Jinn, the danger they were facing, everything was back. The peace had drained out of them. They headed back to the house to fill in the rest of the team in private.

They didn't take it well, any of it. Jaune left a dent in the wall he punched and began yelling. "So everything we did was for nothing?!"

Blake tried to counter, "that's not true,"

Nora sat in with her head in her hands

"Really? because it sure does sound like it!" It was strange seeing her so serious. The tension in the room was unbearable.

Ren asked the question of the century, "If salem can't be killed, then how are we supposed to win this?" No one had an answer.

...

No one was speaking or doing anything.

...

"Wow, Great plan, everyone" Jaune's cold voice broke the silence.

...

"Look," Oscar's soft voice shook a bit. "None of this is great, we know. But we aren't the enemy here," hadn't the previous night proven that? How much better they had all felt when they were reunited. Even the silver eyes were controlled by keeping what really matters in view. _Salem won by turning people against each other if we just worked together then..._

"Are we sure about that?" Jaune's tone halted Oscar's thoughts and sent a chill up his spine.

"What?"

The blonde turned to face the young boy, his expression murderous, "He's in your head isn't he?! Did you already know about this?!" He began walking towards Oscar, Weis tried to stop him but even that was half-hearted.

Oscar was terrified remembering Qrow's reaction, his eyes darted to the dent clearly visible in the wall. He backed up, but Jaune got there first. "How much longer we can even trust him!" The older boy towered over him, and then pinned him against the wall. "How do we even know it's really him?" Jaune's hands were very nearly at his neck.

He heard some people calling Jaune's name trying to get him to stop, but still no one moved. Any of them could have forced him to stop, but no one did. _Probably because they are all thinking the same thing._ "What if we've been talking to that liar this whole time?!?" Jaune's voice was frantic and paranoid he pushed harder, shaking him back and forth.

Oscar began to see spots.

"Jaune!" Came Ruby's voice louder and angrier then they had ever heard it. Jaune's eyes met Oscar's terrified ones. Oscar slammed his eyes shut, bracing for another punch to the face. Thankfully it didn't come, Jaune had stopped. Oscar slid to the floor. Jaune went upstairs, and Oscar flinched as he passed.

"Is he going to be okay?" Asked Yang. She wasn't talking about Oscar. He supposed it made sense, she had known Jaune much longer than she knew him, but still Oscar was the one who had been choked. He rubbed his throat, trying to catch his breath again. It was shallow and uneven, but he was breathing again.

_Calm down. Breath... in and ....out. You're ...okay,_ telling himself that didn't make it so.

The ...room ....was ....spinning.

...

The rest of Jaune's team went to go check up on Jaune, ignoring Oscar. He didn't know why he expected anything else. Jaune was their friend, their team leader, of course they would side with him.

No one had done anything when Qrow punched him either, in fact Yang looked ready to give him round two. But they were all still dealing with the information they had just received, they were confused and scared so they were lashing out. _Lashing out at the wrong person_ , but Oscar could still rationalize it.

_Now, the same thing had happened again._

If team RWBY wouldn't stand up to Qrow, they obviously would not choose him over Jaune, but still. Team RWBY had had time to think about it and process the information, but still did nothing. Calling Jaune's name didn't count, they were trained huntresses, they easily could have stopped Jaune if they had wanted to. _But they didn't want to_. That was clear. They believed Jaune's points, they were worried about trusting Oscar too. They might not attack him themselves, but they would stand by and let someone else do it, which was just as bad if not **_worse_**.

Then they just left, again. Leaving him **_alone_** ,

...again.

They didn't trust him, care about him, or want him around as anything other than a punching bag. They only ever saw him as Ozpin. They talked about him like he wasn't there, because he wasn't. Not to them. From the very beginning of this crazy situation, Qrow had tossed him his cane and called him " ** _Oz"_** , then after that he hardly ever called Oscar by his actual name.

Nora had greeted him as "cuteboy **_Oz"_**.

Heck, he had even introduced himself to them as " ** _Professor Ozpin_** ".

Was it really a surprise that they didn't see anyone else?

Jaune's anger was towards Oz, but he had already proven that he would take it out on Oscar. Even Ruby who insisted he was his own person, wasn't the first one to defend him.

She wouldn't go against Qrow, he understood that. Even though all her friends had pointed their weapons at Qrow when they had thought he was on Oz's side, he bitterly remembered. Qrow was family, but Jaune was her friend, she wouldn't go against him either. While Oscar wasn't really her friend, she barely knew him. And even then, most of that time he had been "Professor Ozpin". It sucked, but that was the truth.

_These people don't care._

He remembered the team's RWBY and JNPR always fighting for the right thing. Oz's inner circle who had always been pinicles of loyalty and were friends as well as followers. Oz had told him of Glynda Goodwitch who was a trusted no nonsense friend who would always be there for him. James Ironwood who despite his differences in opinions and methods would always do what he believes is right for both his kingdom and his friends. Leo Lionheart who was a courageous and steadfast friend. Qrow Branwen who was a loyal and the most trusted friend, who would always be willing to make the hard choices and deal with them.

_So much for that. So much for loyalty. So much for friendship._

 

He suddenly realized who's house he was in, Jaune's sister and if Jaune saw him as an untrustworthy enemy then he was probably no longer welcome.

**_Enemy_**. That's what Jaune had called him, what he called Ozpin. He understood liar, Ozpin had told so many lies. He understood untrustworthy, because how could you truly trust someone who lied to you that often. **_But an enemy?_** That stung. An enemy as if Oz hadn't been trying his best to save humanity despite it being a hopeless task. As if every good thing he had ever done meant nothing. As if he wanted to harm them. Enemy. If Jaune saw him like that then he wasn't safe here, in case he didn't realize that after being held by his throat against the wall. He needed to leave.

He didn't know where to go, but he couldn't stay with these people. These people who saw him as their enemy.

He felt like a spy sneaking out of an enemy base, if anyone caught him he would be delt with severely. But no one caught him.

In fact, It was far too easy to sneak away. As if they had let him leave, they wanted him gone.

Then once out of veiw of the house he broke into a run. He was running from his problems, from the voice in his head who stubbornly remained silent, and from Jaune's words. They had terrified him almost as much as the physical assault had.

> _"How much longer we can even trust him!"_

 

_Can I even trust myself?_

Jaune had taken everything that Oscar had been worried about and systematically shoved it into his face.

> _"How do we even know it's really him?"_

_..._

_Am I really me?_

_..._

_For how much longer?_

 

He didn't think he was Ozpin, but if that's all the others ever saw then, then really what was the difference?

_Oz?_

_..._

He felt like a traitor for calling on the old wizard. If the others knew he was trying to talk to him, trying to get him back, then they would never trust him.

 

_Not that they did anyway._

 

_Oz? Please help me!_ He collapsed.Adrenaline spent, terror subsided, and Oscar was **_alone_** and **_lost_**. Argus was a big city. He didn't know where he was.

He was an idiot for running away like that.

Maybe he could go back home, get a train ticket and forget any of this had ever happened. He could scam the machine the way Hazel had taught him. and go home. No one wanted him here, anyway.

He saw himself reuniting with his aunt. she would be livid, she would demand an explanation and probably hold him by his ear until he gave one. Although, her anger wouldn't make him cower like Qrow's, Yang's or, Jaune's. Auntie Em's anger would come from a genuine place of love and worry; she would never want to hurt him. After her harsh chewing out she would wrap him in such a warm hug that the Argus snow would feel like a distant memory. At home everything would fade away, Salem and her army, the betrayals of so called friends, and the burdens of the gods.

Gone.

 

And Ozpin..., well he refused to come back. So Oscar would learn to live without him, with this sickly emptyness within him, just as he had been forced to live with the strange man in his head. He would still probably get flashes of memories and moments of intese secondhand emotions; he would never stop feeling guilty. Every day sunrise to sunset, guilt would eat away at him, but he would be home with someone who actually cared about him.

 

His aunt would never call him Ozpin.

 

but he would still become Ozpin. Or Ozma or whoever else he would be when the whatever happened was over with. Sooner or later. Perhaps gradually without even noticing it, he might just wake up one day and not be himself.

> _"_ _how do we even know it's really him?"_

How would his aunt react?

How would he do anything knowing that he willingly gave up, ignored his god given task?

_No._

 

_Not mine._

 

_I never asked for this. I just want to go home. To be with people who won't hurt me for something I didn't even do. Is that too much to ask? Ozpin, I just want to go home! can't I go home?_

"I just want to go home!" he was crying. A child crying lost in the cold.

It was so cold. He wasn't in any way dressed for this weather. It served as another reminder that he didn't belong here; he wasn't prepared for any of this. He was fooling himself, he wasn't a huntsman, he wasn't a hero, or anything like that. He was a farmhand, who had never so much as owned combat gear.

_How could I ever think I could do something like save the world? How stupid am I?_ His cries morphed into bitter twisted laughter. It was just so perversely funny that he had thought he could do anything. _You? A hero? yeah right. The only reason they let you hang around was they needed a way to speak to Ozpin. And after that they just wanted someone to blame for what Ozpin did._

 

He detachedly wondered what the people of Argus thought as they saw a young boy lose his mind. That phrase applied to him more literally then he would have liked. He couldn't stop laughing or perhaps he was crying, he didn't know anymore.

He fell to his knees clutching his head, desperately **_wanting everything to stop._ **

 

**_The world to stop spinning,_ **

 

**_His head to stop pounding,_ **

 

**_Stop everything._ **

 

**_Please._ **

 

**_Please. Please._ **

 

**_Stop everything._ **

 

**_Stop fighting. Please._ **

 

**_Stop the pain._ **

 

**_Stop... Stop... Please, stop..._ **

 

**_Stop living_**...

That thought set him off again, even if he did off himself, with the way this whole stupid thing worked it wouldn't really change anything. _Or would it?_ He didn't know. If he died as himself would Oz go off to another host? If the merge wasn't complete then he wouldn't be forced to go with Oz to the other host, would he? What happened to the other souls? Ozpin had once described himself as a combination of lives, souls, people. What did that exactly mean? Was Ozma some amalgamated force that just absorbed and assimilated souls? What would be left of him?

 

Maybe it would be better to die before he lost himself.

 

Or was he, even now, already too combined with Oz?

 

> _"How much longer we can even trust him?"_

_How much longer do I have left?_

_..._

> _"My soul is eventually merged with another and I am changed,"_

Eventually, no real frame of reference given.

 

_It could be tomorrow or I could have years, who knows._

 

There was already so much about him that was different, the little boy that his aunt raised would have never been able to the things he had done. He trained alongside real huntsmen, he had held his own against Lionheart, and only a couple days ago he had been running along the top of a speeding train as Grimm attacked them. Was that the results of training and hard work or his slowly merging aura? hadn't the others talked about how surprising it was that he had progressed so fast.

 

Maybe that was his answer.

 

Everything was so horribly overwhelming. He gazed up at the sky, it would be getting dark soon, the moon would be out soon. The broken moon that scientists and scholars alike had tried to reliably explain, he knew the answer now.

 

He wished he didn't.

 

From where he was, wherever that was, he could still see the wall towering above him, reaching towards the sky. It made him feel even smaller.

 

_What would it be like on top of that wall?_

It was a tempting thought. From up there he could probably see the whole city. His troubles would shrink in perspective the further up he goes.

_I bet I could almost touch the sky_ , He would often daydream about flying, as free as a bird, off to the places he had only ever read about. Off to far away places, beyond the rainbow.

Ironic that now he only thought about flying back home.

He had been to the Mistral, to Haven academy, he was heading to Atlas, that was if they figured out a way to get there, but those famous sites that had so interested him when he was younger didn't compare to his quiet farm.

To the simple life with his aunt. Why did he ever wish to be somewhere else? Everything he truly needed was back home, in his own backyard, why did he never think of appreciating what he had always had? He had never wanted to be just a farmhand, he had always wanted more. How stupid was he to not realize what he already had? His aunt who had always cared for him, who took him in when his parents had died, who would stay up all night with him when he was sick. And he had repaid her by running away. What was wrong with him? How ungrateful could he get? He probably really hurt her when he left.

How he wished he could run to her now, she always helped when he felt afraid and now he was feeling more scared then he had ever had in his life.

But he also knew that he couldn't go back home. Something deep inside him, or perhaps _someone_ , wouldn't let him go back home. Not while the Relics were still in danger. Not while the schools were still targeted. Not while Salem was still out there.

He had a responsibility. A god given task. A curse.

 

_Not mine. Not my task. Not mine._

 

He was fooling himself.

 

It was his.

Hadn't Jinn proven that?

> _"But no matter what, his mind would eventually turn back to the task he had been burdened with."_

 

He couldn't ignore this.

 

He didn't want this.

_You can't out run this, it is as much yours as it is his, you should just accept it,_ it was strange hearing himself think that. He had always faught against the idea that he would one day become Oz, but what was the point now? Oz had always told him something similar, from the very beginning.

> _"they are our thoughts now"._
> 
>  

_I_ _t's our burden now._

_Ours._

_You are not yourself._ It was a bitter pill to swallow.

 

_You can't just be Oscar. Not while Remnant needs you to be someone else._

He felt like crying again _. It's not fair_ , he was whining like a child.

 

He was a child.

 

A child in over his head. His breathing was shaky. He felt like the ground wasn't under him. His chest hurt almost as much as his head. He had cried so hard that it was hard to breathe.

He could feel another bought of panic coming on.

Eventually, he found that he was all out of tears. He had run the gambit of emotions and now a sense of calm understanding filled him. He had finally reached **_acceptance_**.

The last stage as he **_grieved_** for himself, and he finally realized that that was what he had been doing. What he had needed to do. He had been **_grieving_** his full self untouched by Ozpin and all this crazy magic, the little boy who had been raised on a small farm in Anima by his aunt , the child who wanted so much to live an adventure like the ones in his books without knowing what that meant; without knowing there is a cost to being a hero.

 

He mourned for an Oscar Pine that had never been anyone but himself.

 

but he knew that if he didn't let that part of himself go, then other innocents would pay the price.

 

He couldn't run from this anymore.

He wanted so much to run and never look back, to run home.

 

He couldn't be too afraid to move anymore.

He thought about every time in his life when he had felt afraid before, he almost laughed at how childish that feeling was now. He had never truly known fear, not until Ozpin came and introduced him to pure unspeakable terror. A terror that he couldn't hide from in the arms of his aunt.

 

He couldn't let others pay for his mistakes anymore.

Maybe then this horrible guilt will go away.

 

Is this the reason why Ozpin always seemed calm and collected? Because he knew, that it didn't matter, but didn't care that it was a hopeless task?

 

> _"when the world needed help, you were the one to reach out your hand."_

Like-minded souls indeed, Oz was right in that. People needed help, and even if it did nothing in the end, he still ~~needed~~ , no **_wanted_** , to help people.

 

_So what if we can't win? We can still try, we still have to try. I still want to try to help._

 ...

Besides was he really the type of person who could ignore all the suffering of the world? Who could just go back home and pretend that this war-a war his friends were fighting, a war that every day felt more and more like it was his, a war that could take countless innocent lives- didn't exist?

If he was, then he probably never would have been stuck with Ozpin in the first place. Was it a terrible thing that he almost wished he was that **_selfish_**? _It would make things a lot easier._

It would also be a lot easier if he could continue to blame and hate Ozpin, the way the others did, easier then admitting how messed up all this was. Easier than looking at the broken man for what he truly was, not a legendary infallible magical being, but a human just like the rest of them. He understood why the others lashed out, he didn't agree with it in any way, but it was easier to have someone to blame.

 

However, it wasn't worth this.

 

He **_missed_** the old wizard. He missed having someone to talk to. Most of all he **_missed_** the part of Oz that felt like an old friend, the part that horrified him because it was far too familiar, the part that was just like him in some inexplicable way.

_Oz? I am sorry. I have been blaming you for something you had no control over. You didn't want this anymore than I did._

_..._

_But it doesn't matter what we want does it?That wasn't a question._

_It doesn't matter what I want._

_..._

_I don't want to disappear._

_... I want. I wish I could..._

_I want to forget all of this._

_I just want to go home, but if I did that others would get hurt._

 

He remembered Ruby's answer when asked for her plan.

> _"Don't let anyone else die."_

Maybe that's the only plan they need.

 

_We have a job to do, it's hopeless and impossible but we still have to do it. We know we are not going to win, but that doesn't mean that we can give up. Every time we delay the inevitable that is another life spared, another student taught, another chance for us to do the impossible._

_Isn't that what you always taught at Beacon? That's why you created the huntsmen academies,_

> _"All Huntsmen are expected to serve humanity... and never succumb to the darkness."_

_A choice to put others before ourselves_.

...

...

...

_Oscar_ , the voice was so faint, so week and tired, that Oscar thought for a moment he had imagined it. But there was no imagining the feeling of **_completeness_** that spread through him. It was freezing, but suddenly he felt a little warmer. A little more put together. He felt like someone did care about him.

It was similar to after they left the apathy's feild of reach, and suddenly everything felt a little lighter, a bit more hopeful, but this was so much better. He felt like himself again, which he knew was paradoxical but at the moment he didn't care. For that moment Ozpin's presence wasn't scary or annoying, but completely **_comforting_** and carried with it a sense of **_rightness_**.

_I am so sor..._ Leave it to Oz to start off with apologizing even when he was the one who had been hurt.

_Don't be. I know you are, but it's really not your fault. We were being unfair to you. I was being unfair to you. You have no choice in any of this either._

_But I have done..._ Oz never stopped feeling guilty, he knew that from the times it had bled into him, but even Oz didn't deserve to be treated like that, especially not after having to relive all that tramua.

_I know, you've made mistakes. So has everyone else in the world. You were right about how a mistake doesn't cancel out the good one has done_.

...

_A mistake perhaps, but I have made more mistakes then any man woman or child on this planet,_

_True, but you have had so many more chances to make mistakes, it's not fair to judge your eons of lives with that of a typical person. How many mistakes do you think the average person makes in their life?_

_But..._

_Look, it doesn't matter. Should you have done things differently? Maybe, but hey that's life. Everyone has regrets. I regret the way I treated you._ He thought about how much he **_hated_** the old man, how much he took him for granted, how **_bitter_** he was in everything he did _._

 

_I'm sorry._

 

_You have nothing to apologise for Oscar, your position can be frightening and frustrating. I remember how hard it was for me. I am sorry for everything I have caused you... And I am sorry for leaving you._

 

Yes, he had left him. Left him so **_alone_** and **_confused_**. In so much **_pain_** and **_anger_**. But Oscar had needed to come to terms with what it meant to be Oz's next reincarnation **_without_** Oz there. Oscar knew that the conclusions he had come to and the promises he had made were **_his_** , and if everything else was theirs that was okay. But at least he had made **_his choice._** He was going to try with however much of himself was left, and then after that he would continue to try when he was someone else. He wouldn't give up.

 

A choice to put others before himself.

  
He couldn't give up.

 

He felt a sense of pride go through him, it mixed in with the guilt. _Oz's._

_That is very admirable of you, but nevertheless I must apologise for everything that you will have to go through. You are far too young to have to carry my burdens._

_And You're far too old to carry them alone. Besides, their our burdens now. It doesn't really matter now. I understand why you left. It is what it is_.

If he was being completely truthful there was still some anger at the old wizard, which given the nature of their relationship Oz probably knew about, but that anger wouldn't accomplish anything. He could have yelled at Oz until he was horse, but then again he already was from the crying. He could tear him down again, but the man had been through enough, besides it would just make Oscar himself feel worse. Even now, he wondered where his anger ended and Oz's own self-hatred started.

 

They weren't okay, neither soul.

 

_But Oz?_

_..._

_Yes, Oscar?_

_It's good to hear from you again_ , there was a pause in which Ozpin must have known Oscar wasn't done talking for he said nothing. But even without Ozpin talking, Oscar felt him there. It **_wasn't silent_** , anymore than it would have been if the man was physically in the area with him, the subtle sound of his breathing and aura pulsing informing Oscar that **_he wasn't alone_**.

_I missed you._

 

Yes, he was still angry.

Yes, they both were in pain and so broken.

Yes, everything sucked, but at least they didn't have to face it on their own.

 

_I missed you too, Oscar_. In the confusing Maelstrom that was their emotions, bleeding into each other and tangling up until they were almost unrecognizable, this was a constant **_comfort_**.

The two souls sat in the comfortable quiet, knowing that **_they were not alone and would never be again._**

The moment was interrupted by Oscar ~~giving~~ a small sneaze.

_Now, before you freeze to death we need to get you some better suited clothes._


End file.
